


And I Feel Fine

by TheGoodDoctor



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Multi, Retelling, Star Trek Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoodDoctor/pseuds/TheGoodDoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the world as it was known. Things were always going to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Feel Fine

If this were a movie, atmospheric music would be fading in right about now. Piano, a minor key, strings; something fitting for the desolate and empty plain under dark skies. The wind is picking up, collecting vast clouds of dust which swirl in the air like tiny, lifeless starlings before crashing to the ground like a wave. The pylons and telephone poles creak, sending a sharp zap of blue leaping from one wire to another.

The sign on the side of the abandoned warehouse is torn, the peeling edge fluttering and snapping in the harsh wind. It is almost wholly faded and sun-bleached or torn so that only one word is legible. Above it is spray-painted three words.

The man shifts the load on his back carefully and looks up at the words. He tilts his head, frowning, the lines on his face seemingly carved from stone. The sign snaps in the wind one last time and tears free, scudding through the air freely, towards the clouds, until a fist swiftly snatches it. The corners continue to whip back and forth ineffectually, beating against the tanned and calloused hand holding it, as the man considers the paper in his hand. The letter “s” has been neatly torn from the warehouse sign, now pinned flat against the man's palm by a grimy thumb. He scrunches it back into a ball, moving to put it in his pocket when a sound makes him spin to face it. An arm comes up to support the bundle on his back, the other raised in a fist.

The sound originated from two people, both of whom are now staring at the man. One is a dark skinned lady, hair tied efficiently away from her beautiful but sharp face. She holds both arms before her, palms out in peace and backs into the chest of the tall, narrow man behind her. The man is angular and still, holding himself at parade rest, face impassive.

“We mean you no harm. We only wish to help,” the lady says. When he doesn't respond, she repeats. Then again, this time with sign language, then once more in a language the man is not familiar with.

He licks his dry, chapped lips and interrupts the next offering. “What kind of - help?”

“Food. Water. Shelter, for as long as you require it,” the woman replies.

“Why?” the traveller demands.

The woman smiles slightly. “Because we can.”

* * *

The woman's name, she explains, is Nyota Uhura. The man’s name is Spock. The traveller nods, does not question, does not inform. The pair appear content with this as they lead him to the door of the warehouse, unlock it, and let him in.

It is remarkably warm within, though it is large and not built for human habitation. The traveller assumes that there is some kind of boiler, piping, engine room. There cannot be electricity. That was one of the first things to go.

There also cannot be many people here, although Nyota says that there are often travellers like himself passing through.

The man, Spock, peels away from them as Nyota leads him to a long table. They sit opposite each other on the benches, the man leaning his elbows on the table and hunching over. Spock returns then, presents the stranger with a folded camp bed, and sits beside Uhura. The man shifts awkwardly under Spock’s intense scrutiny, clears his throat, scratches his thick stubble.

“Do you require sustenance?” Spock speaks for the first time.

The man looks at Uhura with a look that clearly says, “is this guy for real?” She looks away from them both, a hand disguising smiling lips. “Yes,” the stranger replies, “humans find sustenance conducive to livin’.” There is a teasing note to his Southern drawl which makes Nyota laugh a little, but Spock merely nods and stands.

“The meal will be in approximately four-point-five minutes.”

“Approximately,” the stranger huffs at Spock’s back as he walks away.

“Do you want to clean up or make camp?” Nyota inquires softly. He grabs the camp bed in response and stands. “Wherever you want to sleep.” She smiles at him, and he briefly returns it.

Nyota watches him take the camp bed in one hand, the other wrapped around the huge bundle on his back, and assess the room. She anticipates that he'll take the empty, dark corner, since the strong-and-silent types usually do, but he heads instead towards where two of the warehouse’s heating pipes meet and where consequently a warm spot has developed. The man flicks out the camp bed before sitting at the foot end and leaning back gently onto his pack. Nyota is curious, watching as he unties the corners of the blanket which ties the bundle to his back and sits up, revealing - Nyota gasps. A little girl, five or possibly six, fast asleep, had been held against the man's back all this time. Around her were the bits and pieces of two humans’ lives that they could carry. The man is gentle and careful as he removes the items from under her and wraps her in the blanket. She stirs, but doesn't wake, and the man sits by her head and strokes her hair until Spock silently brings him a second camp bed.

* * *

When the evening meal is ready, it is brought to the long table by Spock and two young Asian men. A boy who cannot be much more than a teenager carries mugs of something hot, the handles looped adeptly through long, delicate fingers, while he chatters happily in accented English to a little girl, only four or five herself, who carries cutlery. She hands them to Nyota, who helps set places, and then charges around the warehouse, informing everyone brightly that it was time for dinner. She finds two ladies, both blonde and typically beautiful, and a young man, who thank her and sit at the table. The traveller can hear that she finds a Scotsman near where he guesses the boiler is because his accent rings off the metal, as does her laughter and demands that he stop tickling her. She leaves his hearing range for a little, then approaches him pulling along a young man.

His first impression is of the sun; gold, and blinding-bright. His hair shines in the dull light like a halo, bathing his face in an otherworldly glow, his mustard-gold jumper tight around a well-fed torso. The man is laughing with the little girl, and the traveller has to look away and swallow.

“Hello!” the girl says brightly. Like everyone else here, she looks healthy, with enough to eat on a fairly regular basis. “I’m Demora. This is Jim. It's time for dinner.” She tilts her head. “You hungry?”

The stranger nods and turns to the sleeping girl. “Hey,” he whispers softly, “time to get up.” The girl blinks awake and smiles at him. He smiles back and pulls her up. She holds tight to his hand, looking suspiciously at the people before her, a warped mirror of the open and smiling Jim and Demora.

The picture is broken by Demora grabbing the spare hand of the other girl and pulling them all towards the table, chattering merrily about how hungry she is. Jim chuckles at her forwardness, turning to share the smile with the stranger who looks quickly at the floor, guiltily.

Demora sits next to one of the Asian men and pulls the new girl to sit beside her. The stranger sits next to the child protectively. Demora introduces the man as her chichi, who then laughs softly and introduces himself as Hikaru Sulu. The next man is introduced as her daddy, or Ben. The teenager is Pavel Chekov, the ladies are Christine Chapel and Janice Rand. The Scotsman is called Scotty, which elicits a smirk from the traveller, the last man introduces himself merely as Reilly.

“My name's Joanna and I'm five-and-a-half,” the little girl says brightly, “and this is my papa.”

“Nice to meet you, Joanna,” Jim says around a mouthful of food, making both Nyota and the traveller glare at him.

The traveller offers no information himself, allowing the conversation to flow over and around him. No one presses for anything. Joanna and Demora run off to play as soon as the eating ends and the traveller watches like a hawk while the others talk. He helps to clear up without being asked and thanks Nyota politely for her hospitality in sharing her food and space.

She smiles. “You're welcome to stay as long as you wish, as long as you help out. But you ought really to thank Jim; it's his space and he's in charge.”

The traveller looks around to where Jim is presently balancing five spoons on his face while Spock and Scotty talk about the boiler. He turns back to Nyota, one thumb pointing back at this display of leadership and responsibility and raises an eyebrow pointedly.

Nyota shrugs, laughing. “I know.”

The traveller shakes his head and moves over to Jim. He clears his throat, making the man jump and sending the spoons clattering to the floor. Spock and Scotty turn briefly at the noise, before returning to their conversation. “Thanks,” the traveller says gruffly.

Jim grins. “Don't worry about it. It‘s just what we do.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Didn't you read the sign? Unique Safe Space, Enterprises,” he beams, proudly.

The traveller slaps something against his chest and Jim’s hand comes up as a reflex. “ _Enterprise_ ,” he growls and stalks away.

Jim pulls his hand away to see the letter “s” which had torn from his sign. He scrunches it up and puts it in his pocket with a vague sense of foreboding.

* * *

The morning light streams through the high windows near the ceiling. The traveller sits up in his camp bed, pressed right up to Joanna’s, and sniffs the air. Something smells. It takes him a moment to realise that it is him. He rubs his blushing face, feeling the scruffy beard, ashamed suddenly. On the long walk north there hadn't been much chance to wash or shave and it hadn't bothered him before. Now he is with other people.

He stands, looking about him. He had been shown the toilet, but that wouldn't do for a full wash, or for his clothes.

While he considers, movement catches his eye. Spock is awake, his sleeping space opposite the stranger's own, and he is making his bed. The traveller steps forward, clears his throat and wishes he could deal with his morning breath at least. Spock looks up and walks over, hand folded neatly behind him.

The traveller scratches the back of his neck. “I need to wash.”

Spock tilts his head slightly. “Yourself or your clothes?”

He grimaces, then glares at Spock. “Both,” he grinds out.

Spock nods and turns on his heel. “Follow me.”

He grabs the clothes Joanna took off the night before and follows Spock to the back of the warehouse, past the others who are still asleep. There, next to the huge black boiler, is a washing machine and dryer. He looks incredulous as Spock gestures to them.

“Natural disasters make an exception for your electricity supply, huh?”

“Since they are not sentient, that would be impossible,” Spock replies, sounding slightly confused.

The traveller blinks at him. “You must be fun at parties.”

“The generator runs using the boiler to create steam, which powers-”

“Okay, I get it.” Spock falls silent and the traveller waits. “You gonna give me a blanket or something, or is this place secretly a nudist colony?”

The tips of Spock’s ears flush. “Of course.” He finds a bathrobe and a towel from a basket on the dryer and hands them to the traveller before turning away.

The traveller strips as fast as he can and wraps himself in the robe. He stuffs Joanna’s clothes and everything he was wearing but his boots into the washer. Spock adds washing powder and sets the machine off. He gestures for the man to follow him and leads him into a bathroom.

“There is soap, shampoo, a comb and a razor,” Spock says. “I will endeavour to find new clothes for you and the child.”

“Thanks,” the man says awkwardly, fussing with the edge of the towel. Spock bows slightly and leaves him.

The water is hot and glorious. It sluices over his hair and skin, hitting the floor a disgusting grey colour. He scrubs until it runs clear and his skin is almost red. The traveller dries off, wraps himself back in the robe and looks into a mirror for the first time in almost a year. His hair is long, brushing his shoulders and tickling his nose where it falls across his face. What he has been hoping was just stubble has worked its way into a beard, scruffy and unkempt. The sun and wind has weathered his face. He looks old and unloved.

The man grimaces, and goes to the door. Spock is moving his clothes from the washer to the dryer. “Hey, Spock.” He looks up. “Any chance of some scissors?”

* * *

The others are eating breakfast and talking when the man returns, but they stop when they see him. While they have been waking up, he has cleaned up, shaved, cut his hair, put on clean clothes. He looks like a different person.

Nyota can see that, to Jim, he looks like a very hot different person. It's written all over his face.

Red is creeping up the man's neck at this shocked, silent response, though it recedes when Scotty offers him coffee casually. He sits between the engineer and his daughter and accepts the offering gruffly. Nyota sends a small smile of thanks to Scotty for diffusing the moment as the talk picks up again and he blushes.

“You look very nice again, papa.” Joanna says brightly.

“Thanks, kid. Hey, you sayin’ your papa didn't look nice before?” the man says, mock-offended.

Joanna pulls a thinking face and says “Well…”

Her papa laughs for the first time since he arrived. “Thanks, JoJo. Just for that, I'm going to stick you under the shower too.”

Jim and Spock look sort of enchanted by the man's laugh. Nyota rolls her eyes. She can see how this is going to go. Just when Jim was getting ready to tell Spock about his feelings, this guy turns up and gives them both a crisis. Either the guy will leave and they will go back to doubt for at least a month, or he'll stay, whereupon he is an unpredictable variable.

Nyota hopes he'll stay.

* * *

Joanna is just as grubby as her father was, but sits patiently while he repeatedly washes her rib-length hair. They have no clothes that will fit her, since she's too big to share with Demora, so they washed what she has and promised more if they could get it. For her papa, however, Jim had promised that they could rustle something up, so that he has more than one set of clothes. Joanna has two and a pair of pyjamas, and said that her papa’s clothes were stolen.

The man towels her hair until it is at least semi-dry and she sits with Demora by the boiler to dry off. The girls are firm friends after just a day and he winces at the idea of separating them.

“Here,” Jim says cheerily. “Merry Christmas.” He presented the stunned traveller with a pile of clothes, startling him from his reverie.

Spock frowns. “It is September. I do not-”

Jim waves it off. “Never mind. Some of this should fit you.”

“Thanks.” The traveller pulls off the thick jumper he had been wearing under his leather jacket, balls it up and chucks it at Spock who catches it reflexively. The two men appear stunned. He raises an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“We were not aware…” Spock manages, “that you were this underfed.”

“You're skin and bones!” Jim blurts out.

The man rubs the back of his neck, which is flushing. “Yeah, well.” He grabs the first shirt from Jim’s pile and tugs it on over his own, through the faded fabric of which ribs are visible. “Fits.”

“But Joanna-” Jim says softly, “Joanna’s not this thin.”

The man offers a hard smile as he removes the shirt and tries the jumper beneath it. “Priorities.” Unlike the man's own, this jumper does not disguise the man's physique. Where the other showed only the broad shoulders, this one shows the effects of sudden and drastic weight loss from what was once a strong and muscled, broad chest. The man pulls a face. “It'll do.”

* * *

“We have got to make him stay,” Jim says emphatically.

“And how do you mean to go about that, exactly?” Scotty leans on the wall, arms crossed and frowning.

Jim pauses. “Well, don't you agree that he should?”

“Yes. Of course. If he's even half as skinny as you say, he ought to for his own sake, and if not then for the lass. But you haven't answered the question.”

Jim chews his bottom lip. “I don't know.”

Scotty shakes his head with a smile. “You were expecting more focus on whether he should or not, weren’t you?”

Jim grins bashfully. “Kinda? You know me, Scotty, I love planning.” He claps the engineer on the shoulder and walks away.

“This can only end well,” he says with an indulgent smile, and Jim laughs.

* * *

Reilly announces his intent to move on over dinner that evening. Jim nods seriously, asks if he can offer him anything. “A month of work is easily worth what help we can give,” he grins.

Reilly asks only for some food, and that when he's found his family he might visit. They drink to his health, some moonshine Scooty has been brewing that tastes awful and will get you sober to shitfaced in maybe four glasses. The stranger watches Spock smile fondly as he watches Jim, eyes shining and comfortably full of tipsy cheer.

* * *

The stranger presents himself to Jim the next morning. “I've freeloaded long enough. Tell me what to do.”

Jim grins. “Sure. Me ‘n Spock are gonna ride into town, see what stuff is left. Wanna come, Bones?”

“Yeah - wait, _Bones_?”

“Yeah,” Jim beams, “Bones, like skin and.”

The man, Bones, rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you infant.”

“Old man.”

“Bite me.”

* * *

It turns out that Jim has an old Jeep hidden in a garage at the back of his warehouse and lots and lots of petrol which he stocked up on when the pumps still ran. Spock rides shotgun with the map and Bones, for Bones to Jim he has become, sits in the back. They're heading west to one of the bigger towns in Iowa to find whatever's left and reclaim it.

“There's almost no one left in all of Iowa,” Jim says. “Not much for natural resources as far as survival goes. Most people we get are just passing through, heading for Canada and the settlements being built in the Rockies. A couple, like Reilly, heading more west to look for family or a place in the Washington colony.”

“Washington?” Bones asks.

“Yeah, they're going subterranean. Old Cold War bunkers, then further extensions.” Jim shrugs. “If it's good enough for Dorothy, you know?”

They arrive at the city and, as Jim promised, it is empty and dead quiet. It survived, Spock explains, on imports on trucks; with the collapse of those infrastructures, the town could not support itself. The change in climate affected the central states badly, making them unable to grow many of the crops they had become used to and so much of the population had left.

Jim parks outside a Target and they enter. “Spock, soaps and shampoo. Bones, whatever food you can find. I’ll poke around for anything else.”

Bones takes a basket and heads down the food aisles. The fresh stuff is gone or rotted and the meat smells really bad, but he finds several huge bags of pasta and rice, a few cans of soup, fruit and vegetables, some honey. The spices which don't look or smell too bad go in the basket too. He walks past the tills feeling guilty and empties the basket into the Jeep. Spock returns with everything from every toiletries aisle, Jim with washing powder, bleach and plant food. He also has all the clothes Target has to offer, including fancy dress, and a grin.

“We're totally going to have a Halloween party this year,” he declares triumphantly. Spock and Bones raise an eyebrow. “Don't - don't do that. Not at the same time.” Jim pulls a face. “It’s creepy.”

Jim drives them into the high street and they agree to reconvene in an hour. Spock and Jim head for more clothing shops and Bones hears them discuss the need for new bedsheets. Bones has a plan of his own.

It's not a long walk from the high street to the hospital and well-signposted so he makes it without any trouble. The door is locked, so he kicks through the glass in it and clambers in. It's musty and dust covers the floor. The effect is of eerie stillness and Bones does not linger. Rifling through the cabinets earns him antibiotics, paracetamol, bandages, antiseptic and other pieces of small medical paraphernalia. All this is placed in a bag and he escapes as soon as he can. He stops at an off-license on his way back, picks up whiskey, meets Jim and Spock back at the car.

Jim is sitting on the bonnet sunning himself, stealing glances at Spock when the other man's eyes are closed to the bright sun. Bones sighs. Jim is the most strikingly beautiful man he's ever seen and Spock loves him. Jim loves Spock, because he is too good to even be an option for Bones. Their toned and wiry bodies are well-formed and in shape, not - his hand makes a fist against his stomach so fast and viciously that his nails scratch his skin through his clothes - shockingly malnourished.

Jim looks up and grins. “Bones! Where’ve you been?”

He musters a smile and pulls the whiskey from his bag. “Beat that.” Jim laughs and Spock frowns. “Alright, robot, don't get your pixels in a twist. I went to the hospital.”

“You sick?” Jim frowns.

Bones rolls his eyes. “Yeah, shame they're closed. No, kid, I'm a doctor. Used to be.”

Spock tilts his head. “Fascinating.”

Bones frowns. “Care to share?” he says, prickly.

“Others have mentioned this when we find them. You appear reluctant.”

“I don't need psychoanalysis, thanks.” Bones climbs into the Jeep. “We going or what?”

“May I inquire as to the reason for your eagerness?”

“You may inquire. I may not answer.”

“Rendering questioning illogical, Doctor, and so-”

Jim beams. “You two are going to get on famously, I can tell.”

* * *

Joanna and Demora are delighted with the clothes with which they return, seeming to think them gifts for the pair alone. Bones and his whiskey make firm friends with Scotty and his stomach. Chekov deems the food offerings more than adequate, the plant food goes to Ben and Sulu, Nyota organises and stores the soaps and cleaning products. Bones adds his medical supplies to his old doctor's bag.

That evening they crack out cards and board games and Bones genuinely laughs more than he has in a long while. Ben and Hikaru share knowing glances each time he does, because Spock’s expression has a tendency to go soft.

Nyota promises a kiss for the winner, and despite Scotty’s best efforts Joanna gets a kiss on each cheek. As he tucks her into bed, she smiles sleepily at her papa. “I don't ever wanna leave. It's nice here.”

* * *

The next day, Bones and Spock work the gardens with Hikaru and Ben. The garden is very much their domain, working quietly and harmoniously. They set him and Spock to weeding the crops of potatoes, leeks, onions and carrots. Ben and Hikaru use plant food sparingly inside and out, as ranged around on a floor above the boiler are various plants which need the heat, like peppers, tomatoes and beans.

Bones learns that Uhura is in charge of keeping track of supplies, helping travellers and using the radio to get what news was broadcast. Scotty maintains the boiler and its pipes. Chekov cooks and cleans. Chapel and Rand are just passing through so help with whatever - today, they're sweeping out the main hall. Jim and Spock rotate jobs as needed and Jim is building partitions today.

“What for?” Bones asks.

“The Sulus would appreciate their own space.” Spock says primly.

Bones smirks. “Yeah, I bet. The winter's going to be cold, they'll want to snuggle for warmth.”

Spock blushes lightly and Bones grins. “It is logical.”

Bones hums happily. “I suspect, Mr Spock, that that's the last thing it is. Sounds like pure emotion to me.”

Spock’s disgruntled expression provides Bones with amusement all day.

* * *

“Morning Bones.” Nyota says as she sits beside him at the table for breakfast. They pull identical unsettled faces. “Nope, it was kind of normal for Jim, but -”

“ _Kind_ _of_ is a stretch,” Bones adds.

“- I don't think anyone else can make it work.”

“It doesn't work. Jim is a pest.” There is a pregnant pause. Bones sighs eventually. “Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy do you?”

Nyota smiles. “Good morning, Leonard.”

“Huh.” Leonard smiles slowly. “Been a long while since I've been anything other than papa. It's nice.”

“I like it. Suits you.” Nyota wants to ask if this means he's staying. Leonard is glad that she doesn't.

* * *

The Jeep breaks down halfway back to the _Enterprise._ Jim cannot get it going.

Leonard and Jim push the damn thing and the load of charcoal and wood at least a mile through the dark and miss dinner.

“I. Hate. This,” Leonard puffs crossly.

“I. Know. You do,” Jim manages.

Having rolled it into the garage Jim collapses on the warehouse floor. Leonard kicks him lightly. “Yeah, yeah, life is real tough, kid.”

“Oh yeah? Was it worse in _your_ day?” Jim laughs.

“Yeah,” he snorts, “in _my_ day we had to push full Jeeps on our own every damn day.”

“Uphill both ways?”

“ _In the snow._ ”

Jim laughs and rolls to his feet. “Aw, sorry, old man.” Bones rolls his eyes as Jim claps an arm around his shoulder. They only get a foot past the door before suddenly stopping.

Spock, softly illuminated by a candle, is sitting on Demora’s bed, Joanna curled against his chest and Demora pressed against his side. He speaks, softly, reading from the book in his lap.

“Everybody knew Bagheera,” Spock reads solemnly, “and nobody dared to cross his path; for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping from a tree, and a skin softer than down.”

Demora yawns then, wide and sleepy, and Spock closes the book. He places it under Demora’s bed and carefully lifts Joanna, returning her to her own bed next to Leonard's. Spock tucks her in and strokes her hair, standing and seeing the men in the doorway. Surprise flickers across his face briefly, before returning to its usual passive expression.

“Doctor, Jim.”

Jim grins. “No need to call me doctor, Spock. Hungry, Bones?”

Leonard gapes at them both, seemingly unsure whether to deal with Jim's impishness or Spock’s sudden appearance in the bedtime routine. Hunger wins out and he pushes past them to stalk to the kitchen.

Jim grins at Spock helplessly and drags him after the doctor.

* * *

Hikaru yawns hugely and settles next to Ben while they catch their breath, secure within the wooden walls which denote their space. There's a door through to Demora’s new room, which butts on to Joanna’s. Nyota has her space connected to the other side of the Sulu’s. There wasn't enough to build more, so the others are pretending like they don't care.

Hikaru shuts his eyes and smiles happily at Ben, whose light laugh gusts over his face. His partner presses a kiss to his smiling mouth. They have missed this closeness.

Ben wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Demora and Joanna are practically inseparable now.”

Hikaru hums in agreement. “It’s good for her to have someone her own age around.” He lets out a huge sigh.

Ben squeezes his shoulders. “Hikaru? _Anata_? What is it?”

“She's growing up so fast,” he whines, burying his blush in his husband's shoulder.

Ben laughs. “I love you.” Hikaru smiles against his skin. “You're right, though. Our baby's not so little.” His partner makes a pained noise.

Holding Hikaru close, Ben smiles up at the ceiling. He doesn't really remember when the disaster hit the city, only the aftermath; looking down on the empty streets from the rooftop, seeing cars piled up like toys and palm trees flattened, sand washed miles from the shore and the dead littering the roads. He had climbed down, shellshocked, with the other survivors and, for want of a better idea, went home. Or at least, where it had been. His apartment block was lying on the shops and buildings that had been to its left in a swathe of destruction. Ben had stood there stunned until the sun got low in the sky and there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Um, you okay?” It was his neighbour, on whom he'd had a crush for a month at least.

“Yeah.” Ben shook himself. “Ben. It's Hikaru, right?”

They'd walked to the edge of the city with the other survivors to get further from the coast and its deadly wave. The emergency services had been decimated and, upon realising that help was not forthcoming, the people started to panic. When it began to get violent, Hikaru had grabbed Ben's hand and pulled him from the crush. They ran, ending up in a park before slowing to a walk.

Hikaru didn't let go of his hand. “So what should we do now?”

“Get away from the coast, I guess.” Ben shrugged. “No waves in the Midwest.”

They meandered slowly through the park as the night settled in. Hikaru had heard it first, the soft, mewing cry, then Ben, and they ran toward the car that it came from.

Her parents were dead, that much had been instantly clear. But the baby was alive and crying, and Ben could never stand to leave a crying baby. It looked like Hikaru couldn't either, since he had climbed through the broken window in an instant.

“Shh, it's okay, it's okay. Hello, little baby.” The girl was passed to Ben as he clambered out. “We have to look after her.”

“Oh but Hikaru, this is all so sudden,” Ben deadpanned. “We hardly know each other.”

“Well, I can hardly leave you holding the baby, now, can I?” Hikaru returned, half laughing but absolutely serious.

Ben looked down at the child who had settled in his arms. She yawned, smacking her lips and pushed her face into his chest. He looked up at Hikaru helplessly, who seemed to understand that his heart had just melted into a pool near his liver. He beamed, and if Ben's heart could have melted any more it would have.

And so Ben found himself wrapped around a new daughter, pressed up against and clinging to an almost complete stranger on the back of a stolen motorbike speeding away from his destroyed home in the dead of night, with his blood singing in his veins and laughing.

Ben smiles at the memories of falling in love on the long road to Iowa, both with the little Demora and with his darling Hikaru. They had found Jim three years ago and he'd put them up on blankets and a camp roll mat, which had slowly evolved into camp beds, then a mattress, and now their own room. Leaving the _Enterprise_ is unimaginable.

Ben nudges Hikaru, who is settling in to sleep. “Hey, _anata,_ how's our baby girl going to learn to read?”

Hikaru groans. “Ask Spock,” is the muffled reply, and then nothing but snores.

* * *

Nyota leans against the table with her hands wrapped around her coffee, smiling softly at the scene before her. Spock is patiently working through the very basic story books with the girls, helping them to sound out the letters and form words. On scraps of paper he guides them through neat lettering and numbers. Learning has all the novelty of newness, while the last of the summer sun has finally left and the fields outside are cold and grey, so the children are applying themselves thoroughly to the task. Joanna has also been promised the joys of surprising her papa with what she learns.

Spock speaks softly but clearly, serious but encouraging in his way with praise hard won but worth more for it. Nyota likes to watch the way Demora beamed, toothy and delighted, every time Spock nodded and praised her; the way Joanna squirmed in her seat with pride, suppressing a smug grin which snuck out at the edges of her mouth like an errant child. Nyota loves to watch Spock, when the girls do well and are not looking, because then he lets a tiny, soft smile creep onto his face, eyes full of love and pride in the little girls.

Nyota, Chapel and Rand clean and sweep the room around the trio at the table as they work all day, breaking off only to scoff some food and get going again. At three there are some tears of frustration, which scares Spock no end, but it's all worth it in the end.

The doors open on Jim, Leonard, Hikaru and Ben laughing and rolling their eyes - Nyota can tell that it’s affectionately at Jim's expense, because he's laughing hardest and Leonard looks like he can't believe the man is real - and the girls explode out of their seats.

“Daddy! Chichi!” mingles with “Papaaaa!” as the girls launch themselves into the arms of their stunned fathers.

“Woah, JoJo, hold them horses, huh?” Leonard says, a bemused grin on his face at his daughter's delight. “What's all this, now?”

“Me an’ JoJo have been learning writing,” Demora says proudly. “Look. I wrote ‘hello’, and that's my name and that says ‘chichi’ and that says ‘daddy’.”

Ben gushes with pride, while Hikaru looks dangerously close to tears. All he can do is press kisses to her cheek until she squirms.

“This is for you,” Joanna says and gives her papa the paper.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Leonard clears his throat dramatically. “‘Papa, I love you, love Joanna.’ Oh, baby girl.” His accent is suspiciously thick as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Darlin’. I love you too, I'm so proud of you, my hard-working girl.”

Nyota beams. Spock has crossed the room to stand at Jim's shoulder and together they watch Leonard discuss his daughter's work with her, his pride beyond evident. Leonard looks up at them both, smiling like he can do nothing else. Jim's face lights up as he returns it and Spock lets the pleased, proud smile back onto his face, eyes dancing.

“Thank you,” Leonard manages at last. “Thank you, both of you.”

Spock nods, and Jim pats his shoulder. Nyota is pleased to note that they don't need words.

* * *

Christine settles beside Leonard gracefully. “Good morning, Leonard.”

He looks up at her from where he is sprawled in the dirt. “Morning, darlin’,” he puffs. “Those kids can't half run.”

She smiles and hands him a drink. “Spock’s about to collect them for lessons anyway.”

“Well, thank heaven for Mister Spock.” A shadow falls across his face where he is lying, eyes closed, on his back. He cracks one eye open. “Aw, hell.”

“A curious statement, Doctor; while religion tends towards the illogical as a rule, even you must see the sense in associating me with heaven or hell and not both.”

Leonard waves a hand at Spock’s tilted head and raised brow. “Shut up, you overgrown calculator, it's a figure of speech for a careless moment. Surely you must have those moments; they make us human.”

“Illogical, as, I assure you, I do not. Yet I am human.”

Leonard points at him. “That's debatable. Mr Spock, remind me some day to get you drunk.” Spock opens his mouth, brows slightly furrowed, but Leonard interrupts him. “And if you say illogical I shall bite your ankle.”

Spock draws himself up primly. “I have nothing further to say.” He stalks off to collect his charges crossly.

Leonard laughs. “Write that down in the history books, Nurse Chapel; Mister Spock has nothing further to say.” He sits up to watch Spock attempt to reason with, and then just chase, the two girls back into the _Enterprise._ A fond smile sits at the corner of his lips.

Chapel waits until he has taken a long drink of water before she asks. She's fun that way. “When are you going to tell Jim and Spock that you love them?”

Leonard sprays the water a good few feet in front of him. The question gets lost for a few minutes while he chokes and Christine regrets her decision, but not for long. “ _What?_ ” he gasps.

“You heard me.” Christine crosses her arms. “I'm serious. I have no interest in watching you three pine.”

Leonard frowns at her. “Well now, just hold on. Nobody here is pining for anybody, ‘cept Scotty, and - and I am _not_ in love!”

Christine rolls her eyes. “It was obvious from the moment you saw Jim that you liked him, and nothing makes you happier than arguing with Spock. Why are you wasting time?”

“Now you listen here, Nurse Chapel,” Leonard growls, pointing at her, “You have the wrong end of enough sticks for a backwards forest on this one. I'm not interested in anyone, and -” his voice cracks slightly “- and no-one’s interested in me.” He folds his arms and has another drink.

“Oh, Leonard,” Christine says softly. “They do love you. I know they do.”

“Yeah, well.” Leonard's knuckles are white around the glass and his spare hand keeps making compulsive fists which dig into his stomach. “And who says I'm staying, anyway.”

Christine turns to him. “I spent almost a year pretending that I wasn't in love with Janice, and it was more painful than I could have known. Don't throw this away, Leonard.”

He hands her the glass, stands. Gazing out over the grey plains at the thunder-filled clouds, pregnant with rain, he pats her shoulder. “Go inside, darlin’. Storm's coming.”

* * *

Bones drips in his seat next to Pavel and Jim. He and Hikaru had run through the rain to pull a cover over the plants to protect them from the worst of the acid rain, then back out again to chase down and bring in the chickens with Pavel. They cluck irritably in the corner now and Pavel gives them the evil eye over his pecked and plastered hands.

“When can we eat-”

“The chickens are more use as egg-layers than dinner, Pavel,” Jim interrupts. The boy looks disappointed but Jim continues anyway. “How much longer can we expect the storm to last?”

Bones yawns widely, closing his sore and tired eyes. The rain made his eyes sting, so he rests them closed as Pavel explains that the storm looked liable to last for at least five days; he should know, weather predictions were invented in Russia. Or at least, Bones thinks that he said that. He might have said that the entire concept of predictions were invented in Russia, or possibly just that all of weather was. Leonard is finding it increasingly hard to concentrate.

Jim stops mid-sentence as Leonard's head drops onto his shoulder in order to grin dopily at him, and then Spock. An arm comes up to settle around Bones’ shoulder and the conversation continues as before, but quieter.

Bones wakes much later in bed to a light and soft voices. “See?” he hears Jim say, “your papa is fine. It was just a bad dream.”

“JoJo?” He sits up, squinting past the torchlight to where Jim is holding a quietly crying Joanna. “What's wrong, what hurts?”

Jim carries the girl over to kneel at the head of Bones’ bed so that the girl can hug her papa. She's incoherent with tears, so Jim explains. “Had a bad dream, didn't you?”

“Aw, baby girl.” Leonard strokes her hair, hushing her. “It’s okay, I'm here, you're safe.”

Joanna takes a shudder breath. “I was playing with De and Spock an’ then they went an’ I couldn't find anyone an’ I could hear Jim but I didn't know where he was an’ there was a monster an’ it was gonna eat everyone an’ it ate _you_ , papa. And then when I woke up it was really dark an’ I couldn't find you _anywhere_ -” she sniffs “- but then Jim found me an’ you're all okay.”

Leonard and Jim exchange significant looks of relief; typical new-room nightmare, not post-apocalyptic-threat nightmare. “It's okay, JoJo, everyone's safe. The monster wasn't real.” Leonard smiles at her and she returns it, wiping her damp cheeks. Jim strokes her hair softly.

“Thank you Jim,” Joanna says as he passes her to her papa.

“Anytime, little bean,” Jim grins. “I'm a professional nightmare-fighter.”

Leonard rolls his eyes fondly and Joanna giggles. “Night night Jim.”

“Night, Joanna. You gonna sleep okay, Bones? Or do you need my nightmare-fighting services?” Jim assumes an approximation of a boxer's stance, leaping back and raising both fists, swaying back and forth and shadow punching to make Joanna laugh.

“ _Goodnight,_ Jim,” Leonard grumps as he carries Joanna back to bed, but their eyes meet over her head and Leonard thinks _thank you_ as hard as he can. It must have worked, because Jim gives a small, soft smile and Leonard has to look away.

* * *

“They don't even need to _talk_ , Scotty,” Nyota moans. “This is terrible.”

“Hey, now. What happened to ‘it's adorable and meant to be’?” he says in a faux girly voice, for which she swats his arm through their grins. “Pass me that spanner, would you?”

“It is adorable and meant to be,” Nyota explains, passing him the tool, “it's just also terrible.”

She can hear the engineer laugh from where his head and shoulders are buried in the metal - and leaking - roof cavities. “Aye, lass, your logic is impeccable.”

“They've gone straight to _old married couple who don't need to show affection because they know it's there_ without actually showing any affection in the first place.” Nyota makes ripples on the bowl of water which is catching the drips. “At this rate they'll never get together.”

“Won’t they just stay together without talking about it first?” Scotty’s voice echoes out.

“No,” she says miserably, “they'll just spend the rest of their lives pining and feeling unloved.”

He emerges from the roof looking thoughtful. “Aye, that does sound a lot more like them. Careful, lass, you're a wee bit precarious there.” Obediently she moves slightly further towards the centre of the large rafter she occupies. “But what can we do?”

Nyota looks down at the table beneath her. Spock and Jim are playing chess while Leonard watches and they're chatting happily. Every so often Jim's laugh rings out, echoed by Leonard's soft chuckles, and Nyota can practically feel Spock’s amusement.

She lies back, sighing deeply. “I don't know. It feels like we should just leave it up to them so that they don't panic, but-”

“-but we absolutely cannot do that,” Scotty says from inside the roof. Nyota hums her assent and he appears again. “Leak, my lady, mended.” He makes a tiny mock bow and she laughs.

“We know they love each other, the difficulty is making them admit it.”

Scotty lies beside her on the rafter and pulls a face. “She’s a tough one.” They both pause, as the rain appears to get harder. Suddenly, water gushes over Scotty’s face, making him splutter and flail.

“ _New leak, Scotty!”_ Jim calls as the water hits the floor below.

Nyota and Scotty sit up and look at each other. They hold it together for an admirable two seconds before howling with laughter.

* * *

 

“Think about what I said, Leonard, won’t you?” Christine says, holding his shoulders and studying his face.

“Yes ma’am.” Leonard gives her a half smile and a hug. “Go on, Nurse, do some good.”

“Save lives and kick ass,” Jim tells Janice seriously. “If you ever get bored of being saviours of the masses, you're welcome to come back.” Janice kisses his cheek and he hugs her tight.

The rain has stopped and a radio signal has been picked up by Nyota: there's a camp of refugees desperately in need of medics and help in Nebraska.

“We'll miss you,” Pavel says. “Who else can we get to eat all the gross zucchini Hikaru grows?”

Hikaru turns on his friend. “Take that back, Pavel, now.”

While they scuffle in the background, Nyota hugs both ladies. “ _I_ will miss you dearly. Be safe.”

Spock walks them to the road. Once there, Christine turns to him. “I think that, in another life, I could have loved you, Spock.” He looks vaguely terrified and she smiles, reaching back to tangle her fingers with Janice. “Don't worry. I just wanted to say; I want you to be happy, and Jim and Leonard too.” She tilts her head and looks at him intently. “You understand, don't you?”

Spock nods. His eyes are bright and hopeful. “I believe I do, Nurse Chapel. Safety and prosperity on your travels.”

* * *

 

The rain sets in again after a few days, meaning almost a whole week of living in each other's pockets without the possibility of escaping outdoors. Leonard is becoming increasingly irascible and his spats with Spock increasingly heated. The children are bored, Jim is tired, Hikaru and Ben worry about the plants and Pavel worries about the food supplies. Nyota takes to sitting with Scotty while he works because he is content to do so in silence or conversation, or even just nodding at the right moments while she rants.

Nyota likes being around Scotty. It's easy.

It's easy to wake him when she hears a knocking on the front door in the middle of the night, and she’s a big girl who doesn't need a man to protect her, but a big Scotsman with a spanner isn't going to be kidnapped by gangs or-

“All right, lass, I'm getting up,” he laughs.

Nyota feels better with his comforting presence at her shoulder as she opens the door, although a little silly when it's open; a pale girl is shivering and dripping in the rain. “Come in!” Nyota practically pulls her in. Scotty shuts the door as Nyota pulls her over to the table and lights a lantern. “Sit, I'll get you a blanket.”

The girl sits, cautiously, and Scotty sits opposite her. “All right over there?” he says, tentatively.

“What is your name?” the girl snaps. She has pale, braided hair and black facial tattoos.

“Montgomery Scott, but call me Scotty.” He smiles and holds out a hand, which she ignores.

“It is good to meet you, Montgomery Scotty.” Her voice is odd, foreign, untraceable.

Scotty winces, then thinks better of explaining. “What's your name, lass?”

“Why do you say _lass_?”

“It's - it's another word for girl.”

She nods, accepting this. “I am called Jaylah.”

“Nice name,” Uhura says, passing her a blanket.

“This is Uhura,” Scotty explains, gesturing.

“Call me Nyota,” she says, smiling.

Jaylah nods. “Uhura Nyota and Montgomery Scotty,” she says, as if cementing her knowledge.

Nyota and Scotty look at each other and shrug. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Jaylah says as if she's only just remembered. “But I must talk to your leader.”

* * *

 

Morning dawns, light struggling through curtains of drumming rain. Everyone in the _Enterprise_ is sitting at the table and looking at Jaylah, or Jim, or both.

“My name is Jaylah,” she says, and looks expectantly at Jim.

“Uh, right. My name is James T Kirk, this is Mister Spock, that's Bones-”

Jaylah cuts him off. “ _Bones_?”

“ _Leonard_ ,” the man himself cuts in, glaring daggers at Jim who ignores him entirely.

“-yeah, that's his daughter JoJo, Hikaru Sulu, Ben, their kid Demora -”

“Pavel Andreievich Chekov,” he butts in, trying his best to look suave and earning twin snorts from Leonard and Hikaru, who grin through his glares.

Jaylah nods. Nyota and Scotty share smiling glances as she prepares to test her knowledge. Pointing at each as she goes, she begins the naming process. “James T, Mister Spock, Leonard Bones-” she glosses over his noise of affront “- JoJo Bones -” JoJo giggles, Leonard buries his head in his hands. “Hikaru Sulu, His Ben, Kid Demora, Pavel Andreievich.”

“Nailed it,” Jim grins.

“Like you're cool enough for _James T,_ ” Leonard snarks.

“Hush, _Leonard Bones_.”

“Now look here, kid-”

“ _Gentlemen_ ,” Spock says significantly and the pair stop to fidget like children, which makes Nyota grin behind a hand. “You wished to speak to Jim, Jaylah.”

“Yes.” She clears her throat and looks intently at Jim. “I hear that you are helping people. I need it. And so do you.”

Jim spreads his hands. “Okay. You have my help- wait, how do I need my own help?”

“There are people,” Jaylah explains, “who want your ship. They will steal it and make your people dead.”

“My ship?”

Jaylah gestures about her at the _Enterprise_. “Your ship. The people come on half-cars and bring the noise and the shouting. They have banging sticks and make people dead. They will make your people dead, James T.”

Scotty frowns. “They have guns? And they're noisy?”

“What are half-cars?” Jim says when Jaylah nods.

“Motorbikes,” Leonard says softly, staring blankly ahead. “They ride motorbikes, play loud music and carry guns.”

They all look at Leonard. JoJo makes an unhappy sound and crawls into her papa’s lap. He hugs her tight and kisses the crown of her head. “They are coming here,” Jaylah says. “Krall will make you dead.”

* * *

 

“How does she know about this?” Jim folds his arms. “She's only a child.”

Scotty frowns. “14, she thinks. She knows because Krall kept her in some kind of...captivity since the disasters started.”

Jim looks disgusted. “But that - that would be four years - she was ten?”

“Aye.” Scotty looks grim and more than slightly murderous. “But she got out, and has come to warn us.”

“Looks like we have to take this seriously then. Especially since Bones reacted like that.” Jim scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully, but spares a small smile for JoJo who comes to wrap her arms around his legs. “Hey there, little bean.” He lifts her up and swings her around.

There is a loud crash from behind them and Jim turns to see it. Leonard has dropped the tray he was holding and the cups are rolling on the floor. Coffee pools around his toes.  “ _Put her down._ ” Leonard says, harsh and unyielding.

Jim looks confused. “Bones, I -”

“ _Put her down._ ” Jim obeys. The entirety of the _Enterprise_ are looking at the encounter now, confused and a little scared of how murderous Leonard looks. Demora hides behind Ben's leg. “ _Joanna, come here._ ” She does, and Leonard pushes her behind him. His eyes are wide and wild.

“Doctor, you are behaving irrationally,” Spock says, calmly. “No one here presents a threat-”

The doctor turns on him. “You would say that, wouldn't you? What do you want with her? With us?” He gone back to looking at Jim. “Why were you holding her? Where were you gonna take her?”

“I wasn't - Bones, please - I would never hurt Joanna, I promise, please -” Jim is crying softly but Leonard doesn't respond.

Spock approaches Leonard's left, arms out. The doctor spots him and panics. Like a wild animal, he swings and punches Spock square in the face. A crack rings out in the silence and a combination of shock and force sends Spock tumbling onto his back, hand cradling his face in pain and disbelief.

No one moves. Jim wipes at tears which just keep coming. Demora sniffles. Joanna seems to be in some kind of shock.

Nyota steps forward, and stops. She does it again, then again, slowly approaching Leonard. Six feet from him, he speaks. “Stop.” She does. After a moment, she steps forward again, then again. “Stop,” Leonard whispers, “please, don't take my baby girl. Not her. Not my baby girl, she’s all I have; don't take my baby.”

“I won't, Leonard,” Nyota whispers back.

Some crucial _Leonard-ness_ comes back to his eyes and he slumps. “God, I - I'm - Nyota, I didn't mean-” He collapses, sobbing into her and she holds him upright. He pulls himself together and kneels by Joanna. “I'm sorry, baby girl, I didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's okay, papa, I wasn't scared.” He sees through her lie to her trembling lip and hugs her tight.

“My brave girl.” He stands, holding her hand, and sees Jim, still crying. “Jesus, Jim, I'm so - I'm so sorry, I didn't - I panicked, Jim, I'm sorry.”

Jim trots forward and hugs him. Leonard squeezes him tightly, apology and affirmation of affection all in one. “S’okay, Bones,” Jim grins wetly. “You love me really.”

Leonard huffs and punches him lightly in the side. They pull apart and Leonard crosses to Spock, still lying on the floor. He offers a hand which the other accepts eagerly and he pulls Spock upright. “Spock, I - let me look at your face.”

“You needn't -” Spock begins, but Joanna and Jim both send him looks of _just let him do it, he's trying to say sorry_. He allows himself to be towed to the table. The others melted away at some point, leaving the hall almost empty. Spock is deposited on a bench and Leonard sets out his medical kit.

“Hey, papa, me an’ Jim are gonna go play.” Joanna looks defiant, Jim nervous, and Leonard hates himself really quite a lot more than he already did, which is kinda impressive.

“No sweets, ya hear?” Leonard wags a finger at his daughter. “Especially not the ones in the blue tin under my bed.”

Jim and Joanna gain a mischievous glint in their eyes, nod and run off. Leonard turns back to Spock and his kit. “They will eat the sweets, Doctor,” Spock says, frowning.

Leonard sighs. “You know it. Let me see that stupid face o’ yours, then.”

Obediently, Spock tilts his head so that the doctor can better access his bruised and bleeding cheekbone. With remarkable tenderness, Leonard cleans the cuts made by his knuckles and ring. When Spock takes a sharp breath in, Leonard stops and apologises twice with a deep hurt behind his eyes.

Leonard busies himself in his medical kit and says, with forced nonchalance, “I've met Krall.” Spock waits, unwilling to rush the doctor and giving him time. “When JoJo was just two. She doesn't remember. Her mama and I - we weren't _together_ anymore, but we travelled together to care for JoJo, you know?” Spock nods, although of course he doesn't, but that appears to be all that Leonard requires, as he continues his ministrations and tale. “Disasters’d just started, so we were glad to see other survivors. Stayed with Krall near a month, before he - he -” Leonard swallows hard, resting his hands lightly on Spock’s face. “He tried to steal my baby, and then shot JoJo’s mama, right in front of us, when she tried to stop him. He tried to steal my baby girl, Spock, and he shot her mama - _he was going to take my baby away!_ ”

Spock has always liked Doctor McCoy’s hands. Calloused, worn; they yet remain active and nimble and ever warm to the touch. Jim said that they still held Georgia sunlight, which made them both laugh and is a treasured memory of Spock’s. His healing hands, ever steady. They are not steady now. Spock turns his head slightly, lips brushing his knuckles in what could be called a kiss, were one so inclined, and Leonard looks up at him, eyes pleading. “We will protect your daughter with all that we have,” Spock says, lips against the hands he likes so well.

Leonard relaxes. Clears his throat. Sends Spock a short but emotional smile which the other returns. Pulls his hands away. “Let’s plaster up this ugly mug, then. Don't want you scaring people more than you already do.”

Spock holds Leonard's past in his heart like a coveted treasure. His secret means a great deal, given to him in particular, but this joy at his trust only doubles when, as Spock stands to leave, Leonard grabs his sleeve. “Listen, Spock, about - about Krall. I wouldn't - I know you talk a lot - I wouldn’t mind if you told Jim. I'd, uh, appreciate it, actually.”

Spock nods, internally singing of their trust and friendship, exacerbated by the beatific smile the doctor sends him which makes his throat go a little dry. “It would be my honour, Doctor,” Spock says, and means it with all that he is.

* * *

 _Bones would be so smug right now_ , Jim thinks, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sugar rush from the sweets to wear off so that he can get some sleep. It's easy for Jim to think and overthink: about Krall and Joanna and Jaylah. About watching, impotent, as Krall kills his family and burns his home. As Krall takes and takes and takes.

But now Jim can feel his throat closing up, so he stops that train of thought. _Come on, Kirk, sunshine and rainbows_.

He thinks instead of Spock. His sharp cheekbones and mysterious, expressive eyes. The way he rarely smiles, but his eyes dance with pleasure or pride, or flash with anger when all else is still. Jim thinks about his long, strong limbs and narrow torso and imagines wrapping himself around it, ensconced and safe in the circle of Spock’s arms. He conjures up long chess games, placing pieces and trading kisses, talking for hours into the night.

The chess one is a particularly familiar dream, but now Bones comes in, sits beside the game and kisses their cheeks like it's nothing. He pulls out a book and leans against Spock, flicking his feet up into Jim's lap, raising an eyebrow at him as if in silent challenge; _so? I'm in your dream relationship and you're my footrest. What’re you gonna do?_

Jim studies dream Leonard, since real Leonard doesn't like it much. His eyes are laughing with undisguised mischief as he makes a sarcastic commentary of Spock’s moves, one corner of his clever mouth turned up. The frown lines are always fainter around him and Spock, Jim realises. His fingers are tapping the book, feet joining in the rhythm on his lap. In the dream Jim is pleased to note that the other has put some weight on; still thin, but his broad chest is muscled now and he fills his clothes nicely. As does Spock. Very nicely. They both laugh at something, Spock softly, ducking his head, Leonard loudly and throwing his head back. Jim melts.

Jim groans softly and turns onto his stomach. It is now much harder to sleep. Which is weird, actually, because usually he only dreams about Spock, but Bones needed to be there or it felt...wrong. Weird, because Jim has made his peace with being in love with Spock, but-

Jim's eyes slam open. _I'm in love with them both_ , he realises. _Fuck_. 

* * *

 

Krall can be seen from the _Enterprise_. He and his crew are camped out a way off in the centre of the ring created by their bikes. Their music can be heard even over the drumming of the rain.

Jim is leaning on the door when one of the bikes peels away from the group and roars towards them. “Chekov, with me,” he calls, and the kid leaps up and grabs their coats. “Ben, Hikaru, with the kids. Get supplies into the cellar.”

“Jim, what's going on?” Bones says, at Spock’s shoulder as they both stand, concern on their faces. Jim allows himself to feel his affection for them, which helps stay his fear.

“Someone's coming. From Krall’s camp.”

Jim and Pavel walk out into the rain, unwilling to meet Krall’s lackey near the _Enterprise._ The idea of anything to do with him in their safe space is abhorrent.

“Krall wishes to speak to you,” the man growls over the revving of his engine. Upon closer inspection, as he and Pavel follow him, Jim realises that he must be only a year older than Jaylah, just better brainwashed; Jim feels decidedly murderous.

Krall meets them about one hundred metres from his own camp. A tall, broad, dark man, he is running almost to overweight. With the food shortages, it's a sign of power and he clearly quite proud of his weight. “You must be Kirk,” he says.

“Krall. What do you want?”

The man cocks his head. “That's very aggressive, I thought you helped strangers.”

“If they are in need.” Jim folds his arms.

Krall smiles slowly, an unfriendly, humourless smile. “How much self-help do you offer?”

“Jim!” Pavel cuts in. Missiles of some kind, petrol bombs and the like, are flying toward the _Enterprise._ Under the cover of the music, bikes have gone out to surround and attack the warehouse.

Jim turns back to Krall, horrified. “ _Why_?”

“Two in there escaped from me. The debt must be paid.”

* * *

 

All is gunfire and screaming. Bones sees Ben sweep up Demora and Joanna, leaping into the cellar and shutting the lid, so he turns his attention to Spock. Spock, who is trying to hold the door with Hikaru against _motorbikes._

Leonard grabs Spock’s hand and drags him away. “Hikaru, damn it, get out!” Spock stumbles, but Leonard keeps pulling, wrenching the garage door open and hurling them both into the Jeep. “Come on come on come on - _there!_ ” Leonard gets the engine going and guns it, roaring out of the garage and smacking straight into two bikes. He winces. “Strap in, darling,” Leonard growls as they roar away; he plans to circle back, head for Krall’s camp and rescue Jim and Pavel. He looks over at Spock when the belt clicks into place and his heart stutters in his chest. Spock is bleeding, badly, from a bullet wound in his side. “ _Jesus!_ ”

Spock groans slightly as Leonard wrenches the wheel around, tearing away from Krall and _Enterprise_ both. “Doctor, where are we-”

“Why didn't you say something, you stupid bastard?” Leonard drives a long way off, until the gunfire can no longer be heard, and stops the car. “How do you expect me to do my damned job-” he marches around the Jeep and hauls Spock out to sit on the floor where he can access the wound “-if you don't tell me anything? That ain't _logical_ , is it?”

“I am sorry,” Spock gets out through gritted teeth, “to have distressed you so.”

“Not as sorry as you're going to be if this gets infected. If you die, I'm going to kill you.”

Spock frowns adorably, facial muscles apparently loosened by pain. “I do not understand. If I am dead-” he hisses in a breath as Leonard takes off the pressure to fuss with equipment at the back of the Jeep “-how can you-” Spock screams.

“Had to be done, darling.” Leonard removes the red hot spanner that he had heated on the exhaust pipe. Spock glares at him reproachfully but his eyes roll back into his head before he can see the doctor’s apologetic look.

* * *

 

Jim and Pavel sneak out in the carnage. Krall was too busy arming to leave anyone competent and they knock their guard over the head and get out. They run around, looping behind the _Enterprise_ and lying out of sight. They watch in horror as Hikaru and Nyota are lead out at gun point and taken to Krall. There is no sign of Spock, Leonard, Scotty, Jaylah, Ben or the children.

Jim is unsure whether to be comforted or not.

They lie there until night fell, silent and waiting. The guns had stopped after the capture and the _Enterprise_ is left empty and charred.

Eventually Pavel gets up. “There must be something we can do,” he says, crossly.

Jim shrugs. “We can look around for the others.”

They do. Wandering aimlessly, they trace two half-circles around the warehouse in the dark.

Suddenly a hand grabs Pavel’s ankle and pulls him down with a yank. He yelps and is shushed by the invisible assailant.

“Lass, you can probably let him go now,” Scotty says, somewhat long-suffering.

“Scotty!” Jim exclaims quietly.

“And Jaylah,” Pavel adds. “I would like my foot back.”

Jim's eyes adjust in time to see the girl let go of his ankle. “What is your plan, James T?” She stares at him intently.

“Easy,” Jim says, smiling broadly. “Rescue the others, reclaim the _Enterprise_ , get rid of Krall.”

There is a long pause.

“Oh come on, guys, you know me. I love planning.”

Scotty sighs deeply.

* * *

 

“ _Fuck_!” Spock wakes as Leonard kicks the Jeep’s wheel and stumbles off, muttering strings of curses under his breath. He can tell that the Doctor has hurt his foot but will never tell, something that makes Spock smile, despite all else. Leonard sees that he is awake. “Whatcha smiling about, huh?” he says, as if aggressive, but smiling slightly.

Spock shrugs but doesn't try to wipe away the smile.

Leonard shakes his head. “I broke the computer. Error 404, Spock smiling.” Spock chuckles softly. “Now I really am worried.”

“The Jeep is not functioning?”

That wipes the amusement away. “No. I knew it was playin’ up since Jim an’ I pushed the damn thing home, but I - I had hoped -” he breaks off, sighing. He shrugs hopelessly. “I can't do a thing for it and nor can you in your state.” Leonard grimaces, turning away, to try the engine again.

There is a sudden roaring and a biker appears, aiming at Leonard. Before he can squeeze off a bullet, a still-warm spanner sails through the air and smacks into his forehead. He drops like a stone and the bike spins and skids to a halt at Leonard's feet.

He looks up, wide-eyed, at Spock, who is glaring at the prone form. “Shit,” he manages, eloquently.

Spock gestures to the bike. “Transport, Doctor. Are you able to ride it?”

Leonard looks down at it with vague horror. “This had better be like riding a damn horse.”

* * *

“We have no interest in you,” Krall snarls. “We want the older girls only.”

“You can't.” Nyota sets her jaw and stares him down. “You can’t have them.”

“What a shame, then,” Krall turns to Hikaru, “that I _can_ have them, and I _will_ have them. And I you don't comply, I can and I will have the other girl.” Hikaru strains against the man holding him and Krall laughs. “Is she yours?” He leans in very close. “ _Not for long_.”

* * *

“Ideally, we'd have Spock and McCoy,” Pavel says thoughtfully, “and at least one more bike.”

An engine guns and approaches, the bike whizzing towards them. “Not you, though,” Scotty adds, raising a crowbar threateningly.

The bike pulls up on the rise behind which they are hiding and stops. The driver rips off his helmet and shakes out his hair. Spock disentangles his arms from around Leonard's waist, who is frowning down at them. The sun behind them lights up lose hair into angelic halos.

Jim is so in love he's glowing slightly. Scotty throws up his hands and wanders off, muttering something about a deux ex machina.

“Bones! Spock! You're okay!” Jim cries and hurls himself at them both.

Leonard wraps his arms around Spock’s shoulders and Jim's waist, burying his head in the crook of Jim's neck and allowing himself to just breath him in. After a few seconds he pulls back. “C’mon, help me get this one sitting down. Got yourself shot, didn’t you, stupid?”

Jim makes a pained noise but helps Leonard manhandle Spock off the bike. Once he's sat down he explains the plan.

“It’s a dumb plan.”

“Cheers, Bones.”

“However, I have nothing better,” Leonard throws up his hands, “so fuck it. Spock, however, is going nowhere near any bike until his wound heals.”

“But I am required,” Spock objects quietly.

“You're damn right you are,” Leonard snaps, “which is exactly why you are sitting tight, understand?”

“He can't be left alone, Bones. What if something happened?” Jim says softly.

There is silence. Jim wraps his fingers around Leonard's shaking hand. “Would you be amenable to transporting me, thus able to care for my injury and complete the plan?” Spock suggests, looking intently at Leonard to gauge his reaction.

The doctor sighs deeply. “Know that I hate it,” he says eventually. Jim squeezes his hand.

* * *

The bikes roar out of the hiding place and split out. From above they create a fan shape, the four bikes blending perfectly with those already in use. One stops at the radio hub the bikes are using to coordinate and the two riders bail out. Another drives to the front of a pack of bikes, seamlessly taking point and leading the group. The last two ride either side of the centre, where Krall is.

* * *

“Right,” Scotty says, grabbing the radio controls. “Music is yours, lass. Ahem, alright, lads,” he begins in his best American accent and winces, “follow that bike seven behind the target and follow his orders. Carry on.” He shuts the radio off and turns to Jaylah.

She nods and sends two bursts of static. Then the boombox is plugged in and the Beastie Boys blares out and all hell breaks loose.

* * *

When Leonard hears the static bursts he nudges Spock, who pulls out the earpiece. Behind them at least one bike capsizes at the shock of sudden, loud noise, taking out in the process at least one more each. More, the bikes cannot now communicate over the music and their only option is to follow bike seven; theirs.

Leonard turns as sharply as he can, gunning it and wheeling between obstacles like a slalom. A couple are unable to manage and crash, the others becoming more desperate to catch him as they realise that he’s the threat.

Spock’s arms tighten around him and Leonard grits his teeth.

* * *

“Come at me, Krall!” Jim screams as he rides past. Pavel passes in the other direction, shooting with the only gun they have at Krall’s bodyguards.

Krall snarls. Hikaru and Nyota exchange concerned glances, and then Nyota sinks her teeth into her captor’s arm.

* * *

Scotty gets back on the bike, leaving Jaylah hugging the radio equipment protectively. As he roars off, some goon recognises her. She raises her fists as he approaches.

“I will not return here,” she says. The other laughs. “I will not return here.” He swings a punch which she dodges to strike his ribs. “I will not return here. _I will not return here!”_

* * *

Jim hears Jaylah’s chant as he guns the bike away from his pursuer. Krall is gaining on him slowly.

He thinks of Bones, and Spock, and wishes that he could have said something. That things had been different. That this whole damn apocalypse had never happened and he could have met them in some hipster cafe somewhere or something. _Anything._ That he had had more time.

He grins mercilessly and rides on.

* * *

The bikers following Leonard are now much reduced in number, due to his weaving and speed. Those who remain, though, are stronger, faster, better than the others.

Ever the scientist, Spock finds time to hate the survival of the fittest.

He leans in close, puts his lips to Leonard's ear, feels him shudder slightly. “I am in love with Jim,” he says.

The doctor swallows. “Yeah, darling, I know. I'm busy, so you'll have to tell me that water is wet some other time.” Spock can hear his disappointment.

“I also am in love with you, Leonard.”

The bike skids slightly. “Uh,” Leonard manages. “Yeah. I - I love you and Jim too; you dumb bastard, this is the worst timing-”

Spock presses a chaste kiss to Leonard’s smiling cheek.

* * *

Hikaru thumps the last guard and he falls. He barely has time to check on Nyota and breathe, however, before Pavel skids to a halt behind him.

“Get on!” the kid says excitedly.

“But -” Hikaru gestures to Nyota.

Pavel waves a hand. “Scotty is on his way. Come on!”

“Go, Hikaru, find the kids and Ben,” Nyota says sternly.

Hikaru and Pavel whizz through the open warehouse doors into the _Enterprise_. They ditch the bike and run for the kitchen, wrenching open the hatch and dropping down into the cellar.

When his eyes adjust to the dark, he sees Ben, Demora and JoJo, completely unharmed, staring in shock. The picture is oddly comic, and Hikaru laughs with relief until he cries. Ben holds him, grounds him, and lets him cry.

* * *

“Scotty! Here!”

He wheels around and sticks out an arm. Nyota starts running in the same direction as the bike and, when he pulls level, grabs his arm and leaps into place behind him.

“Damn, lass!” Scotty yells over the roar of the engine.

Nyota laughs, music in the chaos. She snakes her arms around his waist and he spares a hand to squeeze hers.

* * *

Jim swears and kicks the bike away from under him, rolling in the dirt. He leaps back up to see Krall copy him, stalking on foot across the plain.

“Kirk,” Krall says harshly. “I hope you know that this was entirely unnecessary.”

Jim cringes, hears suddenly his stepdad’s voice. “This is your fault, Jim. I wouldn't have to do this if it weren't for you.”

 _No,_ Jim thinks. _This is not my fault. I am protecting my family. Spock. Bones. This is not my fault._

“This is all on you, Krall.” Jim stands straight, looks him in the eye. “This is not my fault.”

Krall snarls and launches himself forwards.

* * *

Leonard and Spock are almost alone now, so they wheel back towards the camp. As they approach, Spock tightens his hold on Leonard with a gasp. _“Jim_ ,” he says.

Leonard sees why immediately. Jim is grappling with Krall, and doesn't seem to be winning.

All other thoughts fly as they speed towards the fight.

When they are close enough Leonard kills the engine and hauls Spock off with him. “Stay here,” he says, striding over. He produces from within his jacket the spanner whose imprint is red and painful on Spock’s side. The doctor's clever fingers spin it idly before gripping it and smashing it down into the base of Krall’s skull.

There is a somewhat sickening noise and Krall screams, rolling off Jim. He looks up at Leonard.

“Recognise me?” Leonard snarls. Krall’s eyes widen slightly. “You do. Good. That was for breaking up my family the first time. How dare you hurt Jocelyn? How dare you take anything from me?”

“You didn't love her,” Krall spits. “I saw you.”

Leonard looks disgusted. “Of course I loved her. I still do, damn you, she was fucking _family_ to me. How can you tell me that I shouldn’t care because we split up?”

“You won't hurt me, Doctor. ‘Do no harm’, remember?” Krall grins.

Leonard kneels beside him. “That last was just a love tap, yeah.” Krall keeps grinning. Leonard smashes the spanner down into Krall’s chest and there are two cracks of broken bones.

Krall screams.

“Now,” Leonard says conversationally, “I’m going to give you this. Concentrate,” he chides when Krall moans and looks away from the roll of bandages and the two pills. “I’m only telling you once. Keep your ribs bound and they should heal well enough. I broke two ribs, so you get two asprins. Keep still, apart from when you are hotfooting it out of this state and never coming back. If I hear of or see you ever again, then you can talk to Pavel. Never finding the body was invented, I am told, in Russia.” Leonard smiles humourlessly and pats Krall’s chest. Krall screams again.

Bones stands and turns his back on Krall. Jim looks faintly horrified, Spock impassive, but Leonard knows that he feels the same as Jim.

“Come on,” he sighs, “let's go.”

He pushes past them and hears Spock follow. He also hears a grisly cutting noise and a sharp intake of breath.

The last rider. Of course.

Jim looks so shocked. The rider removes her knife from Jim's side with another sick noise and lets him crumple to the floor.

Leonard and Spock move together; Leonard to Jim's side, Spock to the attacker. He is too busy stopping the blood to notice at the time, but later realises that Spock punched her unconscious in one. On the way down she hit her head on the dropped bike. There was nothing to be done.

But he realises none of this now. Only the way that Jim stains the floor, his shocked, open eyes staring up at nothing.

Distantly he is aware that Jaylah drives Spock back on one bike. He must have driven Jim back on another. Somehow. He lies Jim on the table, uses almost all his equipment on sewing Jim shut and binding him up. Eventually, his bloodied hands feel Jim's pulse, weak but stable, and he lies one of the loves of his life in Jim's own bed.

The water runs red for a long time when he washes his hands. Spock’s, Krall’s, Jim’s.

He returns to the main room, silently pulls Spock away from Jim's side and uses the rest of his supplies on sorting out Spock’s injury. He is then gently returned to his place at Jim’s side, but Leonard pulls his hand away when Spock attempts to hold it and him still and nearby.

He cleans a graze on Nyota’s forehead while Scotty hovers unhelpfully, but Leonard cannot summon the energy for irritation. He puts a plaster on a cut on Hikaru’s arm, cleans a burn Pavel got from a bike but didn't notice. Leonard checks Scotty, Jaylah and Ben compulsively and hands out ice packs for their bruises. He gives Demora and Joanna sweets and holds them tight be for relinquishing Demora to her fathers. Joanna he holds until she falls asleep and long after.

He doesn't go near Spock or Jim.

* * *

_A week later_

* * *

_To whom it may concern,_

_I am sorry. For all that I have brought down upon you. Krall would never have come if I hadn't. Neither of us should ever have been here, and you paid the price for that._

_I cannot be sorry for leaving._

_Jocelyn died. Joanna has had no childhood. They threatened Demora. Spock got shot. Jim nearly died. No points for spotting the common denominator._

_Hikaru and Ben, look after my girl and Demora. Joanna matters to me more than anything, but you will do right by these children._

_Pavel, she better not eat too many sweets, understand? Lots of vegetables, kid, for her and any sprogs you have with some traveller who leaves you holding the baby._

_Nyota, Scotty, admit you like each other. What's the worst that could happen, an apocalypse?_

_Jaylah, you better eat well. Look after yourself, and everyone else. Scotty cannot live on sandwich alone._

_Spock - I am sorry. Talk to Jim. Forget me. Teach my girl well and finish The Jungle Book. Admit at least that this is logical._ _I love you._

 _Jim, you better care for your injury. Keep it clean, don't stretch it or rip your stitches, you dumb kid. You're on nightmare duty. I expect you to take it seriously._ _I love you._

_None of this is your fault. Any of you._

_Joanna, baby, I'm so sorry. It's for the best, I promise. These people will care for you better than your poor papa ever could. You'll always have enough to eat, and you'll learn to read and write and be cleverer than me. Maybe even Spock. Imagine it. Baby, I love you so much. You are the best thing that ever happened to me but I have to keep you safe, JoJo, and safe is where you are. Safe is not always with me, and I am sorry. When you are older, you will understand. Let Jim and Spock look after you now. Your papa always loves you._

_Don't come after me._

_Dr L H McCoy._

* * *

“What the hell do you call this?” Jim screams, waving the letter.

The traveller sighs, but doesn't stop. “Evidence of you not being able to read so well.”

“You're leaving? Just like that?” He trots to keep up with McCoy.

“You shouldn't be out of bed. You aren't well.”

“Perhaps I need a doctor around the place,” Jim says defiantly.

“No, you need about ten more brain cells to rub together.”

Jim sighs. “Bones, stop, I can't walk this fast.”

“Because you shouldn't be walking at all.” He stops and points at a patch of floor. “Sit your dumb ass there.”

Jim does, but Leonard stays standing. “Bones, come home with me.” He says nothing. “Come back to Joanna.”

Leonard grimaces and looks away. “What’d she say?”

“She doesn't know. It's not too late, Bones. Come home.” Jim reaches out but he stays resolutely out of reach.

“ _Home_ is a burnt building with a leaky roof because someone chased me and he had petrol bombs.”

“But Bones -” Jim makes a pained noise. “Bones, I love you.”

“Yeah?” Leonard turns on him angrily. “I loved Jocelyn. I loved my home in Georgia. I loved my parents. All gone, Jim! Love don't do shit against death, kid, just makes it hurt more.”

Jim realises that Bones is crying. “Love is what makes fear of death bearable, Doctor.”

They turn their heads so fast Jim suspects whiplash. Spock is standing there, hands behind his back, face impassive and eyes wells of pain. “Jim loves you. I love you. You said you loved us. If this is no longer true,” Spock swallows hard, “I will leave you alone.”

Leonard could escape now. Lie, break three hearts, leave. He cannot. “No, Spock, it - it's true.” He wipes furiously at his eyes. “I love you, damn it, and I'm so damn scared.”

“Then stay. Stay, and let us comfort you.”

The dam breaks and Leonard hurls himself at Spock to sob into his chest. Spock’s arms surround him, only breaking their hold to admit Jim when he hauls himself up.

“You should be in bed. You should both be in bed, you're not well-” Leonard says thickly.

“Make me,” Jim says happily and captures his mouth to kiss him until he groans. At this Spock breaks in and has a turn. “Take me back to bed, Bones.”

“Mmm. No,” Leonard says, grinning wickedly. “You're both injured. No rigorous exercise for either of you until I say so.”

“It need not be rigorous,” Spock says hopefully.

Leonard laughs and kisses him. “I have high expectations, darling.”

Jim is beaming so hard his face hurts. “Come on. Let's go home.”

* * *

She manages until 5:30 before her resolve breaks. “Papa!” Joanna shrieks. “It's Chriiiiiistmaaaaas!”

Her papa groans. “Yay!” Jim responds in kind. “C’mon Bones, Christmas! Wake up, Spock; presents!”

Bones swats him. “G’way.”

“Come on, JoJo, let’s find some more fun people.” Jim and Joanna drag each other out to where Demora is already playing with her sleepy parents.

Spock rolls over and offers Leonard a small smile. “Good morning, Leonard.”

Leonard grins. “Mornin’, darling. Merry Christmas.”

They leave the room together, fingers twined. Leonard leans on Spock to drink the coffee a cheery Jim provides with a kiss for them each and watches as Joanna plays with him. She shows Spock the book Santa gave her proudly, already excited to read it. Leonard gave him a knowing look and Spock blushed lightly in memory of the hours he'd spent agonizing over the decision.

Joanna unwraps a medical jigsaw puzzle and rolls her eyes, grinning. “Thank you, _papa_.”

“Hey!” Leonard grins back. “Santa just wants a good education for you.”

The box is actually filled with sweets. “See, must have been Santa,” Jim says triumphantly.

Spock squeezes Leonard's hand and kisses his cheek. “I am glad that you decided to stay,” he says, softly.

“Me too,” Jim adds.

“Me three,” Joanna says.

Demora grins. “Me four!” Bones suspects that this is more for the pleasure of saying it than anything else, but the looks he gets from her parents, Pavel and the bleary-eyed and hugging Scotty and Nyota rather suggest that they agree.

“You are good,” Jaylah says with finality.

Leonard blushes furiously and throws up his hands. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want now?” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, squeezes Spock’s hand and looks at Jim. “Me nine-hundred-and-fifty-seven, or whatever. I'm glad too.”

Jim gets up and kisses him. Spock holds their hands.

While the outside world is full of fear; disease and darkness and danger; inside this can have no bearing, for Leonard is surrounded by those he loves and who love him in return, and he is home.


End file.
